A Field of Crimson
by Ambrose51
Summary: Ten years before the Lone Wanderer ventures out into the waste, there was an elite group of mercenaries known as the Crimson Order. By the time of the Lone Wanderer though, they've disappeared. What happened to them? Will their past be uncovered?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** _I obviously don't own Fallout. Bethesda Game Studios does, and as one of their loyal followers and forum members, I would never dare claim ownership of any of their works._

**A Field of Crimson**

_Chapter One_

"Scratch one."

Greg looked through his sniper scope at the now dead raider, who was face down on the ground, blood pooling around his body. He began to search the terrain for his next target. The raiders had been getting more and more bold, and this group especially was a problem. Their numbers had swelled to several dozen, and they had planned and were now executing an attack on the Safehouse, a still intact building that served as the base of operations of the Crimson Order. The Order was a fairly famous mercenary group, serving anyone with the money to pay them. Out in the wastes, few could afford their services, but they got jobs every now and then from the different settlements.

"One raider, down range by the bus."

Greg heard Billy give out the location of his next kill, and he quickly turned to see the bus. As he looked over it with his scope, he saw movement behind one of the windows. He focused on that spot, and a moment later, a raider peaked over the edge, looking almost exactly at him. Greg took the shot.

"Scratch two."

"Wonder when these raiders are going to charge already. I mean, really. I'm getting tired of waiting and playing spotter."

Greg looked up from his sniper scope and glanced at the man next to him. Billy was a rough looking man. He had dirty black hair of unknown length, mostly because he always seemed to wear a bandanna. He had a small mustache and a growing beard, and dull, blue eyes. He was wearing a set of red, leather armor, and held a .44 Magnum in one hand, and a pair of binoculars in the other.

Greg went back to looking for his next target and made no comment. Billy was good in a fight, but he really had no patience. He was the sort that would jump the gun and possibly ruin their well placed ambush. Which was precisely why he was sitting up here instead of down there with Jerry, Ben, and Alison.

It didn't take long for Billy to spot the next victim. "All the way at the end of the road. He's running from cover to cover, currently behind those trash cans by the old pharmacy."

Greg turned the gun to look towards the position, but saw nothing. Just when he was about to question Billy's eyesight, a raider made a mad dash forwards from behind the trash can. Greg led the target just a little, then pulled the trigger. Unfortunately for the raider, his aim had been a bit off, because instead of killing the target, he simply blew one of his legs off. The raider fell to the ground screaming in pain, grasping at where his leg had just been.

"Aren't you going to finish him off?"

"Nope. A good sniper only uses one bullet per target, and he just received his."

"Can I kill him then?"

"If you can hit him."

"Excellent." Billy then took aim with his scoped Magnum, held the gun steady for nearly a minute as he lined it up perfectly, then shot. Greg, who was watching through his sniper scope, noted that Billy had hit his mark. A near perfect shot.

"Scratch one for me!" Billy cheered. Greg congratulated him on the kill, then went back to searching for targets. He found one, hiding behind a car relatively close to their position. How he gotten that close, Greg had no idea, but he planned on ending his luck. Before he could take the shot, he ducked back down behind cover, but that meant nothing to this sniper. He aimed through the first broken window, and guessed where his body would be behind the car door, then shot. A scream was heard, and then nothing.

"Scratch three."

Then, a few moments later, the raiders charged from their hiding places. Dozens of men and women ran across the ground, sprinting towards them. "It's time to move. Let's hope the others do their jobs."

Greg got up and ran away from the window he had been standing near. Billy was right behind him. A moment later, gunfire riddled the window and the wall around it. By the time the shooting stopped, Greg was already in a new position and lining up a shot.

"Scratch four."

* * *

The raiders charged down the street, oblivious to what was about to happen to them. As the last one ran past the pharmacy, two figures popped out from behind walls on both sides of the street and threw grenades towards the still advancing raiders. The first exploded right at one raider's feet, blowing him to pieces and sending two others flying. The first landed on a large piece of rubble, and a sickening crack could be heard upon impact. The second was luckier, and was merely knocked unconscious when he hit a wall. The second grenade was off the mark, but sent shrapnel at the raiders unlucky enough to be near the explosion. Three dropped dead, and four others went flying. All died except for one, who got back up and took cover behind a nearby car. Many of the other raiders took similar courses of action, and soon they were all shooting at the two figures. They ducked behind cover, their part mostly over.

Behind the raiders, in the building they had been rushed for, a door opened. A massive mountain of a man stepped outside, carrying a minigun. As the gun prepared to fire, some of the raiders turned around and screamed a warning, but it was too late. Minigun bullets covered the entire area, riddling nearly a dozen raiders on his first sweep. The raiders began to panic. Some stood their ground and returned fire, only to be cut to pieces by minigun. Others tried to run away, but they were killed by the two figures that had thrown grenades, who were now shooting at the raiders with assault rifles. The smart ones took the best cover they could find and tried to hide, but death soon found them from above, as the two snipers killed the stragglers. The ambush was complete.

A field of corpses lay before the three story building they had been trying to take, an example to all what will happen if you attack the Crimson Order. The three figures in the street killed any remaining raiders, then returned to the building, where their comrades awaited them. A good day, if there ever was one.

**A/N: **_I'm not sure what prompted me to write this. It was just some idea that popped into my head. This isn't quite up to my normal standard of writing, and I was rather rushed while doing it, so if I continue, which I probably will, then chapters after this should be longer. Don't know what I'm thinking, starting a new story. I barely have enough time to write the one I already have going. Oh well... This will serve as a back story for Billy Creel and one person who hopefully won't be found out till the end. Maybe I overestimate my skills. People will probably know who it is by the second chapter with my luck. Read and review and all that jazz please._


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** _I obviously don't own Fallout. Bethesda Game Studios does, and as one of their loyal followers and forum members, I would never dare claim ownership of any of their works._

**A Field of Crimson**

_Chapter Two_

Greg and Billy walked down the staircase to the first floor, but not before Greg replaced his sniper rifle in the armory. It was a decent sized room on the second floor, holding at least one of nearly every weapon imaginable. Hunting rifles, assault rifles, Chinese weaponry, missile launchers, sniper rifles, even a laser rifle. The building was three floors, each floor having three rooms and a hallway. The first floor contained the bedrooms of Ben, Jerry, and Billy. The second floor contained the kitchen, the armory, and a bunker you could shoot out of, even containing a balcony with sandbags stacked on it. The third floor was Greg and Alison's room, and Greg's office, which contained all the money the group collected. It also contained his personal computer, which he used to file reports on their missions, and a radio he would listen to. Greg was an avid fan of Three Dog and his Good Fight, though he was apparently the only one in the group that actually believed him or understood what he was talking about.

When Greg and Billy reached the first floor, the main door burst open, and Jerry walked in. "Man, now that's what I call a fight! Those bastards never saw it coming. Glorious! Nothing gets the blood pumping quite like a good fight, eh Ben?" Jerry was a man of the wastes if there ever was one. He was in his late thirties, and had wandered the wastes for all of his life. He had semi-long black hair and bloodshot brown eyes. He had several bullets wounds on his body, underneath his red body armor, and was almost constantly smoking a cigarette. He used to be a raider, before turning on his comrades in the middle of a firefight, when he realized that the Crimson Order would win. His hope was that after betraying his former allies and helping the mercenaries, they would spare his life. It worked, and afterwards, he helped them complete their job. His actions, as untrustworthy and self serving as they were, earned him a spot in the elite group. That didn't mean he was well liked though.

"You call that a fight? It was more like a massacre if you ask me," Ben responded. Ben was a mountain of a man. Standing over six feet, he handled all the heavy weaponry in the group, and had a particular knack for explosives. As he said, he likes big guns and bigger explosions. He was bald, with brown eyes and a thick beard. He wore what looked like a curious mixture of power armor and heavy combat armor. No one was quite certain how he functioned in it, but he did. Unfortunately, for all his strength, he was rather slow. He typically took a little bit longer to catch on to things, and didn't do well with change.

"Poor guys got stuck in the ambush of the century. Oh well, that's what they get for messing with us," Alison said, stepping out from behind Ben. She wasn't what one would call beautiful, but she was certainly striking. She had long, red hair and sparkling, green eyes. She had a fairly slender build, and preferred stealth over combat, although she was quite capable of holding her own. Out of all of them, she was the one with the least interest in fighting, but that was probably because she hadn't been in the waste as long. In fact, no one except for Greg knew about her origins, and he wasn't talking. One thing they all knew though, was not to make her angry. She was best in hand to hand combat, or with her sword, which she tended to carry with her everywhere she went. Make her mad, and you were likely to lose a finger.

"All right everyone, it's getting late, and I imagine you're all tired," Greg said, likely beginning another long speech. Before he could start, Jerry interrupted him.

"Tired? All we did was sit in one spot all day and wait for the raiders to show up. When they finally did, we shot one clip, maybe two, and let Ben rip them apart. The most tiring thing we did today was walk from out there to in here! Exactly what do we have to be tired about?"

Greg ignored him. "As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, I'm sure you're all very tired, so go get some sleep. Tomorrow we have a mission to do for those guys up in Megaton. Something about ghouls infesting the supermarket they're currently stealing food from. I'll keep watch."

With that, he turned around and headed back up the second floor. He went into the bunker room, grabbed a sniper rifle leaning against the wall, and sat in a chair behind the sandbags, wishing desperately that he had something to drink. Meanwhile, everyone on the first floor promptly ignored him, headed into the kitchen to grab their various meals, and began doing what they usually did at that time. Which is to say, Jerry went into his room and started on a new pack of cigarettes, Billy took out his Magnum and began polishing it, and Alison made a futile attempt to teach Ben about something besides how to make loud noises. A typical night that would lead into a not so typical morning.

**A/N: **_This would be a lot longer, except my computer got hit by a nasty virus, and I'm having problems keeping it up. This was pretty much rushed out. No more chapters until I get it fixed which will be a week at the least._


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** _I obviously don't own Fallout. Bethesda Game Studios does, and as one of their loyal followers and forum members, I would never dare claim ownership of any of their works._

**A Field of Crimson**

_Chapter Three_

The next day started out normally enough. Everyone woke up early in the morning, grabbed whatever they felt like eating from the kitchen, and retired back to their room for another hour as they prepared for the mission. Most everyone wore their typical armor, though Alison wore an interesting looking outfit with a bulky red jacket tucked into red, fingerless gloves and red trousers with black shin-high boots. It had two ammo belts strapped diagonally around her torso, as well as a regular belt that her sword was strapped to.

Greg himself wore a long, red coat that covered up some light, leather armor underneath. He also wore a baseball cap and a pair of black gloves.

After everyone was ready, they met in the armory to pick their weapons of choice and discuss the mission. Once they were all there, Greg began to speak. "All right everyone, listen up! Our mission for today will be to clear out a Super-Duper Mart those idiots up in Megaton are currently getting all their food from. Apparently, they sent out some people there a few days ago, only to find out that it had suddenly been infested with feral ghouls. They don't know where they came from, but there are a lot of them, so pack extra ammo. They're still ghouls though, so this should be a pretty easy mission. The folks paying us don't seem to realize that though, cause they've hired two other mercenaries to help. I hope you can all play nice. That means you, Jerry. I don't want to see anyone getting shot in the back. Now get to it!"

With that everyone began choosing their weapons. Billy, of course, had his Magnum. It seemed like he carried that thing everywhere he went. In addition to that, he picked out an assault rifle and two grenades. Alison opted for two 10mm smgs which she holstered on her waist belt. She apparently only had one clip for each though, so their uses would be limited. After being reminded of this, she also picked out a Chinese assault rifle, which she slung over her shoulder. She also carried her sword, of course. Jerry also picked out a Chinese assault rifle, but also carried three frag grenades, a 10mm pistol, and a combat knife. Ben actually ignored the heavy weaponry for once and picked up an assault rifle, though he seemingly wanted to pick out a missile launcher as well. He also took a combat shotgun and replaced what would be a pistol with a sawed-off shotgun. Greg himself took his sniper rifle as always, but also carried a hunting rifle and a .32 pistol.

When everyone was ready, they headed out into the daylight. Unfortunately for them, it was raining. Jerry began complaining almost immediatly. "Oh, well this is just great. Rain! We have to walk all the way to this run-down store to save those wussies in Megaton, because they're too afraid to kill a few ghouls. Awesome. Where's a cigarette when you need one..."

Greg turned around to face the man for just a moment and said, "Just shut up and walk."

* * *

About halfway into their trip in the rain, a man could be seen running towards him. Jerry moved to open fire on the man, but Greg signaled him to stop. When he got closer, he fell to the ground in front of them. Alison helped him up and gave him a drink of water, and after a few moments, he began to speak. "Please, you have to help us! Raiders are attacking our town!"

Greg stared a him for a few moments before replying, "How much will you pay us?"

"Excuse me?"

"Pay. How much will you pay us?"

"But if you don't help, everyone will die!"

"I can live with that. The question is, could you, when all you had to do is give up a little bit of money?"

"Then how much do you want?"

"Hmm... Well, Megaton is paying us two-hundred caps for this mission. We'll only be able to sacrifice one person for it. Maybe fifty caps."

"Yes, we'll pay you, please just help us!"

"Very good then." Greg turned to Billy and continued, "Go with this man to his town. Deal with the raiders. I honestly don't care how you do it or if anyone else dies, just make sure you get the money from them. If for any reason they refuse to pay you, force them to."

"Will do." Billy then ran off, following the man who had found them.

Alison turned to Greg and said, "Do you really think he's ready for a mission by himself? What if he gets killed?"

"Then that just means one less fool in the wastes, and one less person to split the money with. If he gets killed by a few raiders, then he doesn't deserve to be part of the Crimson Order."

* * *

The group had been traveling for most of the day by the time they reached the supermarket. It was dark by then. All of them carried flashlights attached to their guns, though they didn't have them turned on, as they didn't want to attract the ghouls' attention until the last moment. Outside, in the moonlight, they saw the bodies of three people, all mauled beyond recognition. That wasn't what attracted their attention though. Standing beside the bodies were two figures, but they were fully clothed and held guns.

"Must be our two merc friends," Greg whispered.

The two figures turned towards them and raised their guns, turning their lights on in the process. Greg was blinded for a moment by the unexpected light, but as quickly as it came, it was gone. The two figures walked over towards them and whispered quietly, "Sorry for the light, just making sure. I'm Alex, this is Logan, and we're your help. Let's get this over as quickly as possible. Damn ghouls freak me out."

Nodding, Greg walked over to the entrance to the store, and after everyone had gathered around, he opened the door and walked inside. There was the sound of a bell as the door opened, and Greg winced, but nothing happened. No sound or sight of ghouls just yet. "Remind me to shoot that thing on our way out, "Greg whispered to Jerry.

They made their way through the store, clearing isle after isle, with still no sign of ghouls. All of a sudden, Alison turned her light on and directed it towards a body on the floor. It was the body of a ghoul.

"Turn that light off! Are you trying to attract attention?" Jerry practically shouted.

"Oh, and you yelling isn't?" she responded.

Before the argument could continue, an eerie green glow could be seen in front of them, as a shambling form made it's was around a corner, facing away from them. "Glowing One! Jerry, grenade, now!"

"Already on it," he replied as a clicking sound was heard and a grenade flew through the air towards the ghoul. "Pineapple going in!"

The ghoul turned around at the sound of the voice and the grenade hit the creature in the head. It screamed a horrible, screeching sound and a green glow emanated from inside it's mouth. Then the grenade exploded, and the Glowing One exploded with it. Before anyone could do anything else though, dozens of similar screeching sounds could be heard all around them.

"Oh, that's not good."

"Aw shit."

"Can we leave now please?"

"Everyone, lights on, form a circle!"

The group complied and formed a complete circle, guns raised and pointed out at the dark. Then, they turned their lights on, and a horrible sight greeted them. All around them, just standing there staring at them, were dozens, maybe hundreds of ghouls. Alex almost had a panic attack. Everyone else opened fire. Bullets ripped through the air and slammed into the crowd of ghouls. Nearly a dozen dropped as everyone continued to fire. There wasn't even a need to aim, there were so many. Then the ghouls charged. Those with automatics just sprayed wildly at them. Alison ran out of ammo first and discarded the submachine guns, then pulled out her assault rifle and opened up with that. Jerry paused in his shooting long enough to throw another grenade, which exploded, taking out at least ten of them at once. Ben was the next to run out of ammo. He dropped his assault rifle and pulled out his combat shotgun. Ghouls exploded with every shot. "I really wish I had taken that missile launcher now!"

"At least you have a gun," Alison shouted as she dropped her ammoless assault rifle and pulled out her sword, which she used to decapitate a ghoul that got too close. Jerry dropped his too and pulled out his pistol. Ben followed and pulled out his sawed off shotgun, but only had two shots in it. Greg was already out of ammo with his hunting rifle and pulled his sniper out, which he just began shooting wildly with. The number of ghouls were finally beginning to thin as the pile of ghoul corpses began to grow higher. One of the ghouls finally broke through and pounced on Logan, tearing at his face. Jerry shot the ghoul in the head, and it collapsed on top of the man. Logan didn't moved. Undeterred, Greg dropped his sniper and pulled out his .32, but it wasn't long before he was also left weaponless. In the end, it was left to Alison and Jerry, who had a sword and knife respectively.

Alison weaved through the ghouls, decapitating one here, cutting another in half, and stabbing a third, all in a smooth and effortless looking dance. Jerry was less stylish. He just ran up to one and stabbed it in the chest with enough power to force his hand out the other side. He backhanded another and heard it's neck snapped, but a third bit into his arm as he attempted to remove it from the ghoul. Alison promptly cut off it's head and looked around. All the ghouls were dead. Jerry was still trying to remove his hand from the corpse though, and the dead ghouls head was still attached to his arm. "Um, a little help here?"

**A/N:** _I really hated typing this. The virus that infected my computer, plus my lack of writing time, made this take forever. I would write one sentence, leave for three or four hours, then come back. As a result, it just doesn't seem to flow for me. Also, for some reason, I really kept feeling like I was writing the same thing over and over again. Really bugs me._


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** _I obviously don't own Fallout. Bethesda Game Studios does, and as one of their loyal followers and forum members, I would never dare claim ownership of any of their works._

**A Field of Crimson**

_Chapter Four_

Billy ran along behind the wastlelander as they hurried towards whatever town he was from. "So what exactly is the name of this place? And what kind of opposition can I expect?"

"It's Ashing. The name of the town is Ashing. As for resistance, I have no idea. As soon as I heard the gunfire, I ran for help. I mean, there were some raiders that were threatening us before, but I didn't think they'd actually attack us."

"And how far is it to this town called Ashing?" Billy asked. Truthfully, he had never heard of the place, which meant that it was either really small or really new.

"Not too far now. We're almost-"

The waster was cut off as the crack of a rifle dropped him. He fell to the ground screaming in pain as he clutched at his stomach and as blood pooled around him. Billy dropped into the prone position and aimed his assault rifle in the general direction the shot had come from, but he couldn't see anything. Even though it was daytime, there was a vicious storm overhead which kept everything drowned in water and darkness. After a few moments, he heard someone shout and then, footsteps. He rolled over into a nearby ditch as two raiders walked straight past him.

"Damn! Did you see the range I made that shot at, Marie? Freakin awesome! Now lets loot this sucker before the others get done with that pathetic excuse for a town. If this guy has any valuables, we might be able to hide em before the boss shows up," the male raider said as he walked up to the wounded waster. He finished him off with a shot to the head, then the female raider bent down and began searching his body for anything valuable.

Billy then decided to pop up out of his hiding spot. He emptied his entire clip into the two raiders, riddling their bodies with 5.56mm bullets. They never stood a chance as they weren't even looking in Billy's direction. He walked up to them and relieved them of their spare ammo and caps, then left their bodies, as well as the body of the wastelander, to rot. He walked off in the direction the raiders had come from, assuming that they had left the town.

In a few moments, he was proven right, as he came into sight of the town of Ashing, if it could even be called a town. It was just a row of three houses, made up of rotting wood and scrap metal. Outside the middle house stood five raiders. One, who was apparently making threats to the inhabitants of the house, held an assault rifle. The four behind him held some pretty pathetic looking pistols, .32s if Billy had to guess, and some baseball bats. Any group of mercs, or even some scavs could have outmatched this bunch.

Billy pulled out his magnum and watched them through his scope. After a few moments, the raider with the assault rifle appeared to get tired of yelling and removed a grenade from his belt, then pulled the pin. For Billy it was a perfect shot. The raider's head exploded in a shower of gore and the other raiders looked shocked, until the grenade hit the ground. Then they blew up.

Billy smirked and put his magnum back in it's holster as he made his way into the small town, passing a large green sign with the words, 'Welcome to ashing' printed on it. Billy noticed that several letters seemed to have faded away on the pre-war sign.

The inhabitants of the three houses opened their doors and looked out, and saw Billy sifting through the thoroughly destroyed corpses. He bent down and pulled a bag that made some metallic clanging noises from the lead raider's body. He opened it up and smiled even more broadly at the sight of several hundred caps. "Jackpot!"

When he turned around, he found himself being stared down by a brown haired woman. Her little daughter was clinging to her skirt, her eyes focused on the ground. "Thanks for the rescue and all, but what the hell do you want? No one helps anyone without mention of a reward out here."

Billy smirked at the lady. "Well you see, this waster came up to our group and promised some caps if we rescued this little hole in the ground. Poor guy got his brains blown out. By the raiders, I mean. Not by us."

The woman paled at that. "The only person who wasn't holed up in the houses was my husband, Jamie. Are you saying he's dead then?"

"To be blunt mam, he couldn't be deader. He's missin a head for God's sake." Billy glanced around her at the house and saw a whole lot of nothing. These people were dirt poor.

"If you're looking for valuables, we don't have any. Whatever caps Jamie promised you, we can't pay."

Billy lost his smirk and stared down at the bag he was holding. He looked from the bag, then back up to the women. After a few moments of thinking, and a few curse words, he tossed the now very surprised woman the bag.

"What-"

"You can pay me now. Fifty caps."

"But-"

"Don't complain. It's not every day someone hands you free money."

"Why?"

Billy looked away for a moment, as if he were thinking about that himself, then he turned back and looked at the little girl.

"Cause I like kids, and the little girl deserves better, especially since she just lost her daddy. So there ya go. Hand me my caps, and I'll be on my way."

The women smiled and gave him his caps, then turned and walked back into the house, seeming to already forget about her dead husband with her sudden increase in wealth.

"Hey, out of curiosity, what's the little girl's name?" Billy called out after her.

"It's Maggie."

"Well then enjoy the caps Maggie. Jeez, I must be out of my mind..." Billy muttered under his breath. Then he began walking back towards the base, where he would wait for his teammates to get back from their mission.


End file.
